


days upon days

by softseasons



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Ballet, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-07 00:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11047329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softseasons/pseuds/softseasons
Summary: He knows it’s just the teenage angst he swore himself he’d never have but Yuri can’t help but feel like he’s been standing still since his sophomore year started. He lies and pretends and it’s okay, for the most part, but then Otabek moves into town and he sees him five days a week and now he doesn’t want to pretend anymore. It takes him a while to figure it out, though.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: the _f_ word is used once.

In Yuri’s opinion, the worst thing about high school is that he has to wake up ridiculously early five days a week. Sure, P.E. sucks, so does English–oh God, _Health_ , but you can easily tune out the incessant talk of middle-aged teachers about topics you don’t give a fuck about with earphones, you can doodle as much as you want all over your notes but the rest you were supposed to get the night before? _That_ you can never get back, the shadows under his eyes will tell you that much. Yuri Plisetsky has never been a morning person, hell, he’s not even an afternoon person.

He’s not a bad student, it’s just that he isn’t interested in most classes. The only one he likes is World History and that only because Mr. Feltsman gets so intense about it, it draws your attention, he yells a lot when he’s not talking about anything history related, most students fear him but Yuri thinks the way his face gets all red when he’s mad or keyed up is hilarious. He also can be annoying as fuck but Yuri is oddly semi-fond of him.

It’s Monday and looking at the clock on his phone he realizes he’s late. As per usual.

He quickly gets up, goes to the bathroom, washes his face, brushes his teeth, pets his cat and tries to find the cleanest pair of jeans that currently litter his floor. It seems like his grandpa hasn’t seen his room because if he had, it would be clean already.

In the kitchen, he grabs something that could count for breakfast if you squint, it’s Monday, for fuck’s sake, who doesn’t sleep in on Mondays? Grandpa and Yuri always do, he probably isn’t up yet, while Yuri didn’t even have time to brush his hair just so he could arrive on time to listen to teachers like Turner talk shit. It’s his fault, really, that he didn’t wake up early enough to go through his usual morning routine but damn him if he’s not going to blame it all on the American education system.

Yuri hears the muffled sound of a notification from where his phone is in his hoodie.

_I’m outside_ , the text reads.

He runs to grab his backpack from his room and gets out of the house unintentionally slamming the door. Bad habits die hard, good thing his grandpa is still sleeping.

Viktor’s car is parked on the street and he’s drumming his fingers inattentively on the steering wheel. He works the afternoon shift at the coffee shop today so he’s not in a rush. Yuri trots to the car and slams the door again when he gets in. _Accidentally_.

“You do know that Pop Tarts don’t count as breakfast, right?” Viktor asks warily eyeing the chocolate covered pastry Yuri is holding in one of his hands.

“‘F course they do,” he says giving it a bite.

Viktor sighs and shakes his head. A lost battle.

Yuri met Viktor a few years ago when he passed to the intermediate class. According to Lilia, he’s one of the best students she’s ever had in all her career, if not _the_ best. Personally, Yuri thinks that’s bullshit. Viktor’s just a dork with great hair, a cute poodle, and a giant ego. He lacks discipline and is way too sentimental for ballet sometimes, always keen on finding his nameless feelings and translating them onto the stage, Yuri thinks he needs to cool his head or his heart for that matter. He swears to himself he only hangs around Viktor and his dramatic personality for the sake of his career as a dancer. And for the free rides. He’s okay most of the time though, sometimes even cool, but sparingly, very sparingly.

The car’s radio is at some random station, Viktor never bothers with music when it’s too early in the morning, he’s not a human being if he hasn’t finished his first cup of sickeningly sweet coffee. Yuri’s not exaggerating, he once had the audacity of stealing a sip once in his short life and he regrets it profusely, it was like 3 parts sugar and 1 coffee. It was awful.

He finds the aux cord in the glove compartment and puts his phone on shuffle, the music low.

Morning rides were usually quiet, Viktor not having much energy for talking in the morning without caffeine running through his system. Not today though, he’s rambling poetic about a guy he just met. It’s 7:45 AM, Yuri’s absolutely not listening to anything that’s coming out of Viktor’s mouth.

“I think you’ll meet him today and I’m sure you’ll get along just right,” Viktor chirps.

Yuri just grunts. He’s not interested in Viktor’s love life, he’s not even interested in _his_ own love life. They’re right around the corner from his school now, he just has to bear this a few seconds more. Infatuation has Viktor talking like Mila. All ‘and he was like’, ‘and he’s so cute’, ‘and like, oh my God?’

When they get there, Viktor immediately stops talking.

“See you in a few hours!” He waves.

Yuri mutters a goodbye, which means _thank you_ , and gets out of the car.

Emery High is a tall brick building with a façade that has seen better days but the interior isn’t that bad. Yuri had been nervous his first day of high school a year ago, but which teenager wasn’t? He didn’t sleep much and on his way there he had been trying to ignore his restless thoughts with loud, loud music. He had been excited, if only a bit, to later find out that high school is boring as fuck.

His first class is Algebra (great way to start a Monday), which Yuri is surprisingly good at but still dislikes it. Well, not _Algebra_ itself–Yuri doesn’t hate a whole field of study but the class. Mr. Teng’s infuriating, he always makes stupid jokes and awkwardly waits for the class to get them but no one does because they’re all math related and honestly, who does that? Teng also has an artistic side, there’s this dude in the class named Patrick, and Yuri has never talked to the guy but he knows this because Teng keeps drawing Patrick Star and sometimes even Spongebob in that poor guy’s homework. He thinks he’s so damn funny.

Guang Hong and Seung-gil are already in the classroom when he gets there. Yuri takes a seat in his usual place, right next to the windows, he says hi to Guang Hong and nods to Seung-gil because that’s how things work between them and you just don’t high five stoic Seung-gil first thing in the morning unless you want to get glared or injured. Yuri’s never seen him hurt a fly but he’s sure he can kick ass.

“Yuri, dude,” Guang Hong says cheerily. He didn’t use to use the word ‘dude’, he got that from an excessive amount of hanging out with Leo and now calls absolutely everybody and their mother ‘dude’. “We’re going to decided what to do for our biology project after school. Leo and I were thinking tacos, maybe burgers, what do you think?”

“I don’t think tacos count as science.”

It’s a bad, bad pun but Guang Hong amuses him and snorts. “You know nothing, Yuri. Tacos _are_ science. That stuff Taco Bell sells? It shouldn’t even be categorized as Mexican food. Or food, period.”

Yuri gives him a wry smile but says, “Sorry, I can’t.”

Guang Hong’s shoulders slump at his response.

Yuri likes Guang Hong, he’s friendly and easy to get along with and Yuri’s not being an asshole, he really can’t. He has ballet practice after school and it takes him a while to walk there. Yuri likes to think of walking as a warmup but in reality his bike broke months ago and he hasn’t saved the money to fix it because he can’t help but spend it on shit he doesn’t need. Asking Grandpa for the money isn’t an option, and when asked, Yuri will answer he thinks walking is good for his joints. (A lie). “But we can do it at lunch?” he offers.

“Yeah, sure,” is Guang Hong's half-hearted response. He doesn’t have the same lunch period as the rest of them and Yuri knows this, but none of them point it out.

He can feel Seung-gil glaring at the back of his skull. He knows he resents him for not hanging out with them more often but Yuri’s one busy, obsessive teenager and he’s determined to be perfect, if only when it comes to ballet. He’s seen it in the mirror at the studio, when an exercise is particularly hard and a small frown marks his otherwise impassive face.

He wants to say something, to amend his absence but he can’t think of anything. Yuri’s secretly afraid they’ll just stop hanging out with him or stop extending invitations because he doesn’t show up, that they may go as easily and they came, but a few moments later, before he’s able to make up his mind, Mr. Teng enters the classroom and that’s that.

 

▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎

 

“Of course it’s science,” Yuri huffs. “How the fuck is it not science?”

“Wait, what if I like both?”

“You have to pick one,” he says accusingly pointing at Leo with the plastic fork he’s been chewing on for the past 3 minutes. Yuri didn’t wake up early enough today to get some actual food besides that single s’mores Pop Tart, so he’s currently occupying himself with the fork. He’s not planning on staying with an empty stomach the whole morning, he’ll have to buy a candy bar or something later. He doesn’t buy food in the cafeteria because he’s minding his spending but also because this school’s food is a disgrace. He’s pretty sure people in prison in Scandinavian countries eat better than a teenager in America. Why did grandpa’s dad move them here again?

They have been discussing what to do for their project for the first half of their lunch now and of course, _of course_ , they haven’t gotten anywhere. Biology is the only class they share this year.

“Yuri, you can’t bullshit your way through this class,” remarks Seung-girl with his signature inexpressive tone.

“I’m not bullshitting my way through anything! _Photobioreactors_? _Ant biodiversity_? What the fuck?” he cries more dramatically than necessary because they’re just picking their mid-term project and it’s only October but hell, if he’s going to spend hours doing a dumb project he thinks he deserves to make it on something that actually interests him.

“Parker will kill us if we show up with a presentation analyzing the difference between ‘cat people’ and ‘dog people’, Yuri,” Leo says. “I think we should go for ant biodiversity, it’s way cooler that photobio-somethings.” Right, Leo just wants to pick ant biodiversity because he suggested it in the first place.

“I’m not getting my ass bitten by ants, Leo,” he fumes.

Yuri looks around the table, he doesn’t even know how he got here in the first place. Theirs was an unlikely friendship: Seung-gil is too quiet, almost _creepy_ quiet, he’s probably a serial killer; Guang Hong is like a human puppy, Leo is too chill and Yuri has no chill at all.

Back in freshman year, Seung-gil had been a loner as was Yuri for the first month or so and suddenly, Yuri saw him all the time with Leo and Guang Hong like they were long time friends. He will never admit it to anyone but Seung-gil making friends before Yuri (who looks way cooler, mind you) was upsetting.

He honestly just wants to chew his fork in peace and pretend he doesn’t have homework or responsibilities. He almost fell asleep in Algebra and his next class is Health which Yuri loathes with every single fiber of his being.

“We do photobioreactors if you do the hard part,” Yuri tries to negotiate.

“Absolutely not. We all do it because it’s _our_ grade,” Seung-gil answers. Yuri doesn’t even know why he even bothered to argue in the first place, he knows Seung-gil will win because he’s a thousand times better than Yuri at biology, there is nothing to negotiate. “It’s not going to be hard,” he sighs, annoyed.

They all end up agreeing because, well, _Seung-gil_. Guy's kinda scary when he wants to be, so they settle for photobioreactors. Yuri didn’t even know that word existed.

By the end of their lunch, Leo is trying to juggle with grapes and making the funniest faces that have Yuri laughing so hard he almost snorts the water he’s drinking. Looking around the table a second time, Yuri wishes he could skip practice today. He’s a little sorry, truly, that he has to hide stuff sometimes.

 

▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎

 

Yuri’s leaving school at exactly 3:25 PM. If he’s fast, he will have enough time to grab something to eat and his stomach to digest the food so he doesn’t throw up in Lilia’s studio. He knows he shouldn’t be skipping meals but he promised himself that his bike will be fixed by the end of the month, so spending money on shitty cafeteria food was not even an option.

He said goodbye to a frowning Seung-gil after Government class and ran like hell. He even has his hoodie up and his earphones on. It’s impossible to not get the hint: Yuri doesn’t want to be bothered.

But then, there’s always fucking Mila.

“Yuri!” She jumps in front of him as she greets him, and Yuri accidentally steps on one of her feet.

He sees her say his name more than hear her. His music is loud enough to block any exterior sound and his own reeling mind.

“ _What_.”

“Uh, someone’s grumpy today.”

Mila is one of _those_ people. The cheery ones. After her sophomore year, which was quite a mess with the whole ‘discovering oneself’ thing after she and her boyfriend split up and many other family problems, she got her shit together. She’s on the volleyball team—got in on her freshman year, fucked up on her sophomore year and got back up for her junior year; she sleeps eight hours, has time to put makeup on in the morning, eats breakfast (unlike Yuri), trains and has decent to good grades. It’s the dream life. Yuri wonders how she manages to do all the shit she does and not be exhausted.

“I’m not fucking grumpy,” he huffs.

“Yeah, right,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “Anyway, what are you doing? Sara and I are getting ice cream when she gets from the library. Wanna go?”

“It’s _Monday_ , Mila.”

“What about it?” She tilts her head.

“Teenagers are not allowed to go out on Mondays.” It’s a lie, at least he thinks so. If he asks Grandpa would probably say yes but he has practice so hanging out with friends on Mondays is not a thing he tends to do.

“Your grandpa would let you go out.” She smiles. “Especially because you’d be with me, and he knows me,” she finishes triumphantly.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Listen, I didn’t sleep that well last night so I want to go home and take a fucking nap, okay?”

Mila doesn’t have time to answer, though, because Sara arrives hugging Mila from the waist and says hi.

They’re gross. They look so coupley but they’re nowhere near dating. Yuri’s sick of them. They act like they’re together but when asked, they always say they’re best friends but Yuri knows better, Mila has had a crush on Sara for ages now. It all started after she broke up with her last boyfriend before this year’s summer started and Sara who at the moment had been nothing but a mere classmate Mila was in good terms with and shared homework, became a friend–a best friend and the rest is history, now the girls are this weird combination of unconditional friendship and sexual frustration.

Yuri can’t say that he didn’t notice Mila’s absences from their occasional movie night, a tradition she forced upon them. He’s not even a tiny bit jealous, by the way.

The downside and most depressing thing about the situation is that Yuri gets all the moping–at least from Mila’s part, he wonders how he’s surviving it all. Every time Mila texts Yuri is about something Sara said or did. Is it a hint? What does Yuri think?

Yuri doesn’t have any fucking clue. About Mila’s love life, or even life in general. He doesn’t know shit, he’s even more clueless than Sara Crispino herself and it’s all building up, Yuri nowadays is all apathy and a shit ton of anger toward nothing or no one in particular. He doesn’t know how anyone stands him.

Sara finally decides to acknowledge his existence. “Hi, Yuri!”

“Sup.”

“Are you coming with us?”

“No.”

“Oh,” she deflates. “Well, would you still wait for Michele with us?”

“No.” After a quick look to Mila’s disapproving gaze, Yuri realizes he’s being a dick and adds, “I can’t. I want to go home to get some sleep ‘cause I didn’t last night.”

Her frown quickly goes away after his explanation. She smiles. “Oh, sleep well then.”

Yuri used to think Sara was intimidating. And she _is_ , when she wants to be, but she’s also kind. He can’t hate her, really, when she’s such a nice person. Even if she took away Yuri’s friend if only a bit.

He says his goodbyes and walks the way home. He’s not going there, though, he just rounds the block and walks to the studio so no one can see him.

For the record, Yuri didn’t feel the need to hide that he did ballet until 7th grade. He wasn’t bullied or anything, he was just the quiet kid that sat near the window and didn’t talk to anyone unless strictly necessary. It’s not that the kids in his school were assholes per se, they were okay, or at least he thought so for a while, until he heard Richard Harris ask a boy if he didn’t think that joining the dance team along with his girlfriend was going to make people think he was a faggot, jokingly. It was so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Yuri wonders how he even heard the question in the loud, crowded hallway but he did and he has not been able to forget it ever since.

Yuri doesn’t consider himself ‘fragile’, he can be a little shit when he wants to. He’s not the personification of kindness and he doesn’t have time for niceties but he’s a teenager and isn’t it easier to get uncomfortable when you’re 16?

If Richard Harris had asked him that day and not the other boy, he, quiet, moody Yuri would have punched him straight in the jaw. Yuri’s lithe form is misleading, he can break your arm if provoked. He’s brave, he fends for himself when necessary but being on the sideline of that conversation left a mark.

It’s all very fucking stupid but that doesn’t mean he’s able to forget it.

He went into high school thinking it was going to be the same as in junior high, no friends, just project partners and whatnot but to his surprise, it wasn’t.

Yuri’s quietness doesn’t come from shyness, it comes from his inability at making friends, he can not take credit for getting the ones he already has. Mila ambled her way into Yuri’s life in the blur of moving houses. Guang-Hong, Leo, and Seung-gil decided to just talk to the quiet, intimidating guy after an uncomfortable session of staring (them) and ignoring it was happening (Yuri). Even Viktor might be a friend, but Yuri likes to think of him as the stray cat that will not leave so he just goes with it.

It’s nice, to have someone to talk to, even if he doesn’t say much, but that’s no one’s fault but his own.

 

▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎

 

Yuri knows he sleeps in on Mondays so he always readies the things he needs for ballet the night before, even if he’s tired and he can barely keep his eyes open. He might be able to do it in his sleep. His current backpack is a purchase that came from that bad hallway memory and his shitty sleeping schedule. He couldn’t afford to go back home for his stuff and then head to Lilia’s studio. That would mean he’d be late, and Yuri has never, not even once, been late for practice.

The backpack is what Viktor calls a ‘studded monstrosity’, Yuri thinks it’s the fucking coolest bag ever produced. He spent a ridiculous amount of time on the internet searching for this particular backpack, he needed something functional but that he’d still like. Everything is neatly folded in what he likes to think of as his ‘secret compartment’ even though it’s just the laptop pocket, sometimes not all of his books fit in but Yuri is more than willing to sacrifice carrying a textbook than his _demi-pointes_. Unlike the jeans he found this morning on his bedroom floor, his practice clothes are clean and spotless. His shoes are in a little black pouch with silver animal print that Viktor gifted him for his thirteenth birthday. He didn’t tell him but he loves the thing, it has _glitter_ , it’s one of Yuri’s favorite possessions.

As usual, the studio is quiet when he arrives, no one’s there yet. Lilia is probably in her office and even if she hears Yuri enter, she doesn’t bother him until it’s time for class. After he kept arriving way too early every single day, she stopped acting like a kindergarten teacher waiting for the forgotten kid to be picked up and she left him to his own devices. It simply became an unspoken agreement.

Yuri loves this place. He might even prefer it to his actual bedroom in his _dedushka’s_ house. The fan that makes the only faint sound in the waiting room has been there since Yuri first stepped in this place, there’s an A.C. now but it’s autumn and it’s not needed. He secretly thinks Lilia doesn’t want to take it down out of nostalgia. She’s a stoic woman, but not a heartless one. There’s a gray couch for parents to wait for the younger students when they come to pick them up, Lilia never lets them stay, it’s one of her rules.

The studio has polished wooden floors and the walls are covered by mirrors where they aren’t by barres, there’s a black piano in a corner that is not touched often unless Lilia feels like it, she usually uses speakers and her phone because, well, technology. There are three large square windows along one wall just above the barres, it’s Yuri’s favorite spot. The sunlight makes the dust particles look otherworldly when the golden hour kicks in and it’s so quiet.

He usually arrives a couple of hours earlier than the rest of the class so he can get a few hours of silence. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t share this place with anybody. He usually just stretches or goes over routines Lilia has put together for them, sometimes he just lies on the floor and scrolls through Instagram or Facebook. Yuri is aware that this is time he could spend doing something else, like doing homework or helping Grandpa with whatever he may need, he could even find another hobby but he cherishes his hours alone in this place.

There’s a small dressing room next to the studio. On one of the corners of the room, there’s a water dispenser that has familiarized itself with students’ forgotten cups, some even leave their shoes in here, since Lilia has such a small student body. She only takes in those who are willing to give body and soul to become a good dancer and she’s expensive. Yuri will not deny it, she’s harsh as fuck but she shows she cares. The first time Yuri returned home alone after class, she stood in the street, watching Yuri’s figure disappear as he walked farther away. She’s also the reason why Viktor started driving Yuri home, a few weeks after he got his first car, she simply said ‘You could drive Yuri home’, the comment sounding more like an order, and he did. The favor later extended to Viktor picking him up before school.

He changes lazily while sipping his water bottle, he’s wearing all black today.

Yuri starts warming up. He rotates his head, his ankles, and his wrists; when he sits on the floor he flexes his feet, then his toes and points at the ends. He has amazing flexibility and is keen on maintaining it for as long as humanly possible. Side and front splits come as easy as breathing, he even keeps the position while using his phone sometimes. The only sounds in the room are his breaths. He practices one of the newer routines, does a few barre exercises until he gets bored and goes back to stretching on the floor.

Viktor finds him in a front split, his torso so frontwards his nose is touching his and his greeting takes him out of his reverie.

Well, there goes his fucking peace.

“Hello, Yurio!” he says cheerily.

“Yurio?” He wanted it to sound harsh but it was impossible when his body is at what should be an impossible angle.

“Yeah, I figured it would be necessary since we're having two Yuris from now on!”

“Huh? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Viktor turns from where he's stretching on the barre, his face confused. "Yuuri Katsuki? I told you about him this morning?” he asks, trying to make a bell ring.

Yuri can't remember shit and now there are two Yuris. Great. “No, you fucking didn’t.”

“Do you have to curse every time you speak?” he sighs, his nose wrinkled in distaste. “And yes, I did tell you, but you never pay attention to me.”

“Why would I pay attention to you?” _Peacock_.

Viktor just smiles at him. It’s infuriating.

The new impostor arrives a few minutes later after Alma and Sabina. Yuri keeps to himself after Viktor quickly introduces him and proceeds, immediately, to pest the poor thing. He hates having a second Yuuri at the studio but not feeling sorry for anyone being pestered by Viktor Nikiforov is downright inhumane. It stops a moment later though when Lilia enters the room and simply calls Viktor’s name. Lilia Baranosvkaya might be the only person to put an end to his incessant chatter so effectively, Yuri’s envious.

She goes in front of the class and turns to the two girls. "I take it you've met our new student." Then to Yuri. "Yuri, meet Yuuri." Everyone is quiet for a beat and then, "Katsuki,” she adds as an afterthought.

“Lilia! I've come up with a nickname to make things easier for us. We can call Yuri Yurio,” Viktor says pointing at Yuri for good measure.

“I was here first, why don't you call _him_ Yurio?” he fires back. It’s moments like these when he wishes he could curse in front of Lilia.

“Because he was born first, silly,” Viktor answers as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

Not even half an hour has passed and Lilia’s already pinching the bridge of her nose.

"We'll figure that out later. Since you’re all warmed up, let’s begin, shall we?”

From the looks of it, only Viktor and Yuri had warmed up but nobody dares to mention it. But Lilia always knows.

“You _did_ warm up, didn’t you?” Her question is met with silence. She sighs. “Five minutes.”

The rest of the group’s warm up is quiet and precise. Lilia _will_ come back in exactly five minutes and it’s better to get the job done.

It’s when practice truly starts that everyone gets serious. There’s no Alma and Sabina’s gossiping, Viktor’s useless talk or Yuri’s snappy answers, everyone is too busy concentrating on making sure their positions are flawless, from head to toe.

Yuri can see Katsuki’s reflection in the mirror. He’s a good dancer, Yuri can tell, Lilia wouldn’t have put him in this class if he wasn’t, but he gets incredibly nervous under her scrutiny.

“Relax your shoulders, Yuuri,” she says.

Yuri looks at his reflection, not him then.

“Katsuki,” Lilia adds a second later. She sighs.

“Told you we should use my system,” Viktor sing-songs.

Lilia just glares at him but it doesn’t have any effect on Viktor since apparently, he’s the most oblivious man on Earth.

An hour and a half later they’re all in the dressing room, the girls, Viktor and Yuuri are chatting animatedly about college, a new bar that just opened and things Yuri can’t relate to, he’s sixteen for crying out loud, the strongest drink he’s ever had in his life has probably been coffee.

After a sorry attempt of Yuuri trying to strike conversation with him and two bottles of water, he’s ready to leave but Viktor just won’t stop talking. Yuri doesn’t forget _he’s_ the one getting the favor every single day but it still doesn’t stop him from getting mad at Viktor for trying to flirt with a clueless Katsuki.

“You ready, Yuri?” Viktor asks after finally deeming his efforts to lure the dark haired man useless. Both Yuris look at him. “Yurio. Sorry, habit,” he says with a shrug and a smile.

“That’s not my name,” Yuri mutters angrily. Viktor doesn’t hear him, he’s too busy staring at Katsuki like he hung the moon himself.

He half-heartedly waves the girls goodbye when he leaves and exchanges nods with Lilia when he passes her by down the corridor while she’s walking to her office. Viktor catches up a minute later. When the doors of his car are unlocked with a beep, Viktor gives him a beaming smile and that’s how Yuri knows the ride home is going to be a nightmare.

Viktor wastes no time in proving him right, he talks and talks and talks, so Yuri grabs an earbud and puts it on his right ear so Viktor can’t see him desperately trying to ignore him. Yuri wouldn’t usually bother to be polite to Viktor, he’s known him long enough but tonight he knows Viktor is going to be insistent on being heard.

However, he doesn’t catch much, except Viktor mourning the fact that Katsuki can drive and therefore doesn’t need a ride from him.

“Not that kind of ride, though,” he says mostly to himself, smirking.

“ _Agh!_ Gross, old man!”

Yuri knows his home is not on the way to Viktor’s but they have been pretending it is for years now. It seems like the only way Yuri can accept the favor, he's proud like that. What started as a favor became a routine, Yuri will never admit it but he’s going to miss this, even though he tells himself it’s just about the free rides than Viktor himself. Less than ten months from now, after his gap year finishes and if he finds ‘himself and his inspiration’ back, Viktor will leave to a very promising, very expensive college and try to make a career as a dancer. He’s really good, probably the best Lilia’s had so far and yes, that does sting Yuri’s ego but he’s 16 in _Lilia Baranosvkaya’s_ class, he’s just as good and even has more time to learn more, to be _better_.

The car stops in front of Yuri’s house. It’s the shabby, one-story house his grandpa decided to move them after his _babushka_ passed away. Yuri had been ten or nine years old but he doesn’t remember much of that time, in his mind the memories look gray. He doesn’t like to revisit them, Yuri doesn’t think he’s ever seen his _dedushka_ look so sorrowful. It was even more despondent than the looks he gave Yuri the days after his mother decided she couldn’t take care of him, or didn’t want to.

She was young–even younger when she got pregnant, he guesses it was no surprise. To Yuri, her face is a blur but he knows he looks just like her because his grandparents and his father look nothing like him. In the end, no one–not even his own parents could force his father to take a wife or even take care of his own child. It was as dramatic as a soap opera, Yuri wishes he didn’t see it that often on television, it made him feel like a cliché. He had been around five when it happened, he thought he was just visiting his grandparents, not staying with them forever. Yuri doesn’t even remember if she said goodbye.

“Well, this is you, Yurio. Goodnight.” Viktor smiles _so_ easily.

Yuri rolls his eyes so hard he might see the insides of his skull. “Are you seriously going to call me that now, asshole? Katsuki’s not even here!”

Viktor’s immune to Yuri’s angry shouts and overall dick-ish behavior by now. He fucking hates it, Viktor looks at him like he’s a puppy, he even had the audacity to pat him on the head once.

The older man just laughs, “See you tomorrow morning?”

“Whatever,” Yuri says as he gets out of the car. Of course they’ll see each other in the morning.

When he enters the house, his grandpa is in the kitchen making dinner.

“Ah, Yurotchka, there you are,” he greets Yuri while leaning in the stove, mixing something with a wooden spoon. “How was your day?”

He answers the same thing he always has. “Fine.” He takes a seat in one of the stools. “Yours?”

Nikolai Plisetsky is a retired man and has been for years now. The only thing he does is taking care of his grandson, his days are not particularly exciting but Yuri always asks nonetheless. Sometimes he goes out and it has led to some funny anecdotes that had Yuri laughing until his stomach ached. He once returned from the park with a stray dog and occupied his time trying to find its owners. Another time, he came back with a damn bird, he had fed it some scraps and it followed him home. The bird lived in the entrance for a week and oh, do those things shit. Yuri had to clean it all because Grandpa has a bad back.

“As usual. Did you wake up early enough to eat some breakfast?”

Yuri didn’t and he tells him so, but after receiving one of his grandpa’s looks he amends it and says he bought food at school. He lies a little too much for his own liking but he doesn't want to worry anybody, especially his _dedushka_. Yuri thinks he’s already a big enough burden to his grandpa, and adding extra worries to his plate is unnecessary. He’s thankful, really, that his grandparents took care of him when his parents didn’t.

They eat dinner quietly and there are a lot of vegetables in Yuri’s plate. When he started high school, Grandpa decided Yuri needed to eat more greens, he’s really short, his growth spurt doesn’t seem to be close at all. Grandpa worries, sometimes Yuri wishes he didn’t.

When he finishes, he excuses himself to take a shower, claiming he’s sweaty and reeks of high school cafeteria and ballet studio.

Yuri’s room is messy. There is a small closet that he organizes every season because his grandpa makes him, there are clothes on the floor that he didn’t bother to put in the laundry basket, his desk is littered with everything but what should be on a desk so he does his homework in bed. There are empty glasses and mugs on his nightstand. Yuri finds comfort in his bedroom, it’s cozy, at least for him, grandpa says it would be too for one of those possum things but each to their fucking own, right?

He takes a long shower. Yuri knows he shouldn’t because he still has homework to do and honestly, he’s quite tired. He slept, what, 4 hours? Chances are he’s going to attempt to finish his homework but since he does it in bed, he’s going to fall asleep, it’s happened before.

In the end, Yuri doesn’t finish his homework. He keeps nodding his head off until he decides he’s not going to finish it if his eyes can’t even focus to read properly. He’ll have to finish it on lunch or something. God, he hates school.

 

▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎

 

“It’s just too fucking heteronormative. Do gay people not exist?” she half-shouts to nobody in particular and then to Sara. “Do gay people not exist, Sara?”

“They do,” Sara nods earnestly.

It’s Wednesday and Yuri doesn’t have practice today after school. Mila is easier to be around with when Sara’s around, she distracts her, so he’s seating in the grass with them in the school’s front yard taking the autumn sun to warm them up now that the temperatures are dropping. Yuri forgot to put on sunscreen today and he knows he’s probably going to regret it if he spends 20 more minutes lying in the grass taking the sun but fuck it, he’s enjoying himself.

“All I’m saying is that you can’t pretend that we don’t exist to ‘protect’ students. Are we serial killers?” Mila’s face is almost as red as her hair now.

She does this every time she gets out of Health, that is, vent about what an incompetent teacher Turner is. She’s been postponing taking the class but finally her time came, it was inevitable, she couldn’t dream of graduating high school without passing the class first.

And it was alright at the beginning of the school year but then class started to cover sexual education and the whole thing went from bad to worse. Mr. Turner is an old man that talks about sex like he’s confessing a crime, his face is always several shades darker whenever he has to say the words ‘penis’ or ‘vagina’.

Yuri knows because he takes that exact same class with that exact same teacher, just on a different period. If hell were a high school class, it’d be Health. Yuri doesn’t know what wrong could he have possibly done to deserve wasting so many hours on such a stupid class. He almost wishes he had a teacher like that coach from Mean Girls, minus the whole sleeping with students thing. What was his name? At least it would be funnier. Yuri’s doodling abilities have been getting better thanks to that class, he can’t draw for shit but earphones are not an option and he has to block all the shit that comes from Turner’s mouth somehow.

It’s true though, that the school program only teaches safe sex practices for straight people but nobody has complained. Yuri knows that, from his class, there are at least three gay or bi kids. Well, four if you count him. In Mila’s there are six. Emery High is not shitty about LGBT folks but that doesn’t mean they’re _inclusive_. Yet not even Mila dares to say anything about it. Mainly because who could she complain to when the staff turns beet red whenever mentions the word sex? The second thing is Mila is also a bit embarrassed to say something, she just doesn’t admit out loud to anyone, or even herself.

Mila Babicheva is open about her sexuality. Nobody gives her shit about it because she doesn’t take it. That isn’t something that appears magically, Mila’s sophomore year was rough, a breakup, coming out and parents divorcing are not things you can easily get through. She had been dating a guy name Luke since middle school, she was fifteen going on sixteen when they broke up and like all first break ups, it felt like the end of the world. Enter Sara Crispino, with her long black hair and mesmerizing eyes, she easily became Mila’s friend after insisting on sitting next to her in every class they shared. They became friends as easy as breathing and Yuri actually stopped seeing Mila as often as he usually did. He wasn’t that jealous about it, mainly because it was around the time he started to really get along with the guys. Yuri guesses Mila needed a friend that actually listened to her and gave her attention and sound advice, Yuri was fifteen and self-centered. Not much has changed, he’s sixteen now but he’s still self-centered.

The whole coming out thing came after Mila met Sara. Was it normal to want to kiss your best friend so badly? Probably not. With Sara’s friendship came guilt, Mila felt like a predator in disguise. It was awkward sometimes because obviously, they did things that could be categorized as stereotypical ‘girl things’, like shopping and having sleepovers in which they sometimes ended up sleeping on the same bed. Yuri can’t imagine what it must felt like, partially because ‘guys don’t do those things’ but also because Yuri hasn’t been attracted to a guy since middle school and that faded away rather fast. But trying not to ogle your best friend’s ass in changing rooms? That must be very fucking hard.

Also, when Sara turned sixteen, she was determined to give her twin brother the middle finger and start dating, which meant Mila often had to hear the girl she was in love with talk about other boys. Mila simply snapped one day, while they were sitting in the booth of a dinner, each sipping strawberry milkshakes. Sara took it well and she assured Mila that she was not a creep, even though they had slept in their underwear in the same bed because their relationship ‘was not like that’. That probably hurt too, but at least some of the tension was out now.

Now, the divorce, that was obviously the most difficult. Mila’s grades plummeted, she dropped out of the volleyball team to which she had a chance to be captain of, and cut her hair over her shoulders. Yuri used to sit with her in silence in her room, they didn’t do much else. Mila sometimes talked and Yuri, unlike other times, listened. He couldn’t offer advice, he thought it wasn’t his place, he didn’t even meet his dad in person, only through pictures that left Yuri with the image of his father as a seventeen-year-old, not what you’d call ideal. She sometimes cried on his shoulder and he sometimes braided her hair to calm her, they even hugged for the first time since they met. It was awkward as hell but nothing around that time was about him. She ended up staying with her mom and now is on good terms with her father. Their marriage didn’t work out in the end but they would rather not have Mila around to see them fight like wild cats when they could be perfectly civil to each other apart and still be her parents.

The only issue that remained from her sad as hell sophomore year was her crush on her best friend.

“I honestly can’t believe I’ll have to see him trying to teach the class how to put a condom on,” Mila complained.

Yuri never gave _that_ a thought. Guess he’ll just have to be scarred for life.

Mila rests her head on Sara’s shoulder, which makes Yuri snatch for his phone to scroll through Instagram and every social media app there is on his phone. He participates in the conversation but he suddenly can’t look at them. Yuri is not super fond of PDA, you kind of can tell by looking at him. Mila and Sara don’t make Yuri feel like he’s third-wheeling, they’re not officially dating but they might as well be. They’re not super touchy since Mila is still learning to be around her friend while guarding her crush but sometimes Sara will do things like tuck a strand of Mila’s hair behind her ear and Yuri would have to look away.

Yuri tries not to think about it much, coming out, that is. If he were honest with himself–which he isn’t, he doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. His mind is rather imaginative, he pictures how it will go down when grandpa finds out or when his friends find out. He knows he’s loved but it’s so easy to forget because he feels like he’s fighting the world alone, and he’s sure this is just his teenage angst phase, the one he thought he was above of, but here he fucking is.

Mila once said she felt like a predator in disguise around Sara, that it felt like cheating because even though, yes, she is her best friend, Mila still finds her attractive. Yuri doesn’t ever want to be in that place. What will his friends think? Leo might never want to change after P.E. when Yuri’s around and listen, he is painfully gay but dude doesn’t bust a nut thinking about the boys in his classes, Smith’s ugly ass face and his drain duff-y hair do nothing for him, he has _standards_.

Their conversation slowly drifts to politics, to weekend plans, and to high school gossip. Yuri can’t be bothered with those topics: politics make him yell, he doesn’t have any weekend plans and he doesn’t even know the names of half the people in his class, so he plugs in his earphones and tunes out.

His eyes are closed and his head is softly bobbing to the sound of the music he’s listening to. He starts dozing off and after the fifth or sixth song, Mila nudges him.

Yuri opens his eyes and stares at the sky. “Not even a fucking minute of peace, _baba_ ,” he bellows while taking his earphones off.

“Hey, I’m trying to stop you from burning to a crisp. You should get out of the sun,” Mila huffs.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up,” Yuri mutters as he sits up and he finds himself staring at the two newcomers.

“Karma is a bitch, Plisetsky, and I was just being nice. Remember me when your skin is so red you look like a shrimp.”

Yuri doesn’t register anything but the last part, he’s too busy looking at Michele–Sara’s brother, and the guy that’s sitting next to him, when did they get here? A part of him is ashamed that someone he doesn’t know has seen him dozing off, it makes him feel strangely vulnerable. What if he made a weird face or something?

“Whatever,” he tells her and he shields himself from any coming conversations by looking at his phone.

“Michele was telling us how he met Otabek, Yuri,” Sara comments, like he asked.

He looks up from his phone. “Oh, cool,” he responds indifferently, sounding like the asshole he knows he is.

Mila nudges his shoulder again and raises her brows. _Be nice_ , the gesture says.

“Otabek?” he asks Michele pretending to be interested as he lowers down his phone, if only for Mila’s sake and because he knows he’s going to get a book-length text message later this afternoon if he doesn’t stop acting like a douchebag.

“Yes! Otabek,” Sara says to the guy he has refused to look at since Mila last spoke to him. “This is Yuri. Yuri, this is Otabek, he just moved here.”

Yuri bites the inside of his cheek and his response ends up being a quiet ‘sup’ directed at his forehead. He meant for it to be louder but fuck it, he doesn’t care. The new g– _Otabek_ , Yuri corrects himself, just nods at him in acknowledgment. He guesses that settles the awkward introduction then.

Everyone is listening to something Sara is saying while Michele is busy between listening to his sister and determining whether Otabek shows any hint of intentions toward her. If he only knew he should be watching out for the girl that goes to his house for sleepovers every other weekend. The world is a funny place.

Yuri takes advantage of their distraction to study Otabek. He’s sitting cross-legged on the grass, his elbows are resting on his knees while his torso is leaning slightly forwards, his body language showing that, unlike Yuri, he’s listening to whatever Sara is saying. His skin is tan even though they’re in the middle of autumn, his eyes are brown and he has rather full lips. Yuri isn’t checking him out, he’s _assessing_ , there’s a difference. He has an undercut and Yuri wonders how someone can look so good with a haircut worthy of a fuckboy. In Otabek’s defense, he doesn’t look the part, sure, the black hoodie with the Adidas logo, jeans and sneakers may dumbfound some people but his demeanor tells otherwise, his face is impassive and he doesn’t have the permanent smirk every high school guy who thinks he’s too good for anyone else seems to have, but you never know.

The buzz of his phone takes him out of his contemplation. _He’s hot, isn’t he?_

Yuri looks up from his phone and directs a frown at Mila like he doesn’t know who she’s talking about. He types back. _Who? Michele?_

A moment later she replies. _Don’t play dumb, I’m obviously talking about Otabek_.

_Thought you were too busy pining after Sara to notice anyone else._

_You know that’s not what I mean._

Yuri doesn’t reply. Instead, he opens an app game and pretends to be invested in it. He’s not totally comfortable now that Michele and Otabek have joined them but he doesn’t want to go home either, so he settles for trying to make his presence in the conversation go as unnoticed as he’s able.

Thinking about it, he never really got out of the sun, his cheeks are a bit too warm now, so he gets closer to Mila because that’s where the shade is but it draws the attention of everyone.

“What,” he barks at them.

“Your face face is really red,” Michele comments.

“You should’ve gotten out of the sun when I told you,” Mila says, smug.

“It’s autumn, it’s probably not that bad.” He blushes, Otabek is looking at him now but his face is already red from the sun so he guesses he has his alibi. Mila is staring at his nose and she can’t keep the tiny smile that tugs at her lips. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

Mila, ever helpful, simply laughs.

“Fuck you, _baba_.” He opens his front camera to check the damage. His nose, cheeks, and forehead suffered the most, the burn is bad but Yuri’s had worse, however that won’t free him from having to rub lotion on his face later this afternoon. “Shit,” he murmurs. It’s going to hurt like a bitch. Yuri eyes Sara’s tan skin, envious that she probably doesn’t burn after 15 minutes of sun exposure. _Ugh_. “I better get going,” he announces and grabs his stuff. “See you,” he says to Mila and the twins as he stands up and walks away. “It was nice meeting you,” he remembers to say to Otabek a moment too late and then turns to get home.

Yuri is already a considerate amount of feet away when he hears Mila yell, “Hey! Wanna hang out on Friday after school? With us?”

He turns and walks backward. “Where?” He knows he can’t go because he has practice after school on Friday but he still asks.

“Bowling!”

“Hell no! I’m never going bowling with you ever again!” he shouts.

“Yuri, it was one time!” she whines.

“No!” he answers and gives the group one last look before he turns around, his eyes resting on Otabek a moment longer than he intends. He feels more than sees Mila giving him the middle finger just like when they were younger, having just learned the gesture and having no idea what the hell it meant but using it anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Halloween itself haunts Yuri Plisetsky. (In a way).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought to you by Lorde's _Melodrama_.

Saturday morning finds Yuri sprawled on his bed without a will to do a damn thing. The little light that comes through the dark curtains makes him feel strange. It’s as if moments like these, the ones in which he wishes he could stop existing to take a break, only feel right at 3 AM when the sun doesn’t stand a chance to expose him. His clothes and his sheets feel unfamiliar against his skin, and the noise that comes from the kitchen is a reminder that he will have to talk to someone at some point in the day. His heart makes a leap in his chest whenever he hears his grandpa’s footsteps remotely close to his door. He tries listening music to appease whatever it is recoiling in his mind but it doesn’t work so he puts down his phone. After staring at it for almost a minute, he picks it back up with a sigh and checks his social media, which ends up being a bad idea.

Apparently, everyone but Yuri did something memorable that merited a photo or a video for Snapchat, while his Friday consisted of school, practice and falling asleep the moment he got out of the shower. Both Leo and Guang Hong have stories of each other watching some horror movie and later of them at a dinner eating giant burgers. Seung-gil uploaded a picture of yesterday’s sunset and his dog. However, what really does it for him, are Mila’s stories.

It’s a compilation of their night out at the bowls near the city’s downtown. The first video shows their ride in the car, Jean-Jacques Leroy at the wheel, while Otabek is on the passenger’s seat, Sara is sandwiched between Mila and Michele, the latter with his ever present frown. There’s a selfie of the girls with one of those flower crown filters and the rest are videos and photos of them bowling. There are videos of everyone except Mila playing but Yuri spends a good amount of time watching and rewatching those in which Otabek appears: Otabek making a strike and turning around with a faint celebratory smile on his face, while cheering can be heard in the background; Otabek briefly sipping from a straw watching someone play with a caption that reads ‘New squad member’ and exactly three fire emojis. Lastly, there is a group photo in which everyone, excepting Michele and Otabek, is smiling.

Yuri knows he said he didn’t want to go and he promised himself that after the Incident, he would never go to that place with her again, but he can’t help but feel left out. He’s not friends with them, excepting Mila. If it weren’t for her, Yuri wouldn’t even see them around school, they’re older than him and he has his own group of friends. He also feels like a child whenever he’s around them and sure, objectively they’re all children, aren’t they? But it’s stupid, how Yuri can feel lame when Sara mentions someone got wasted, or when Michele talks about college. Yuri has never had a drop of alcohol–that he can remember– and college seems like a distant thing for him.

This is the power of Snapchat, he thinks, making you feel like you’re wasting time locked in your room when you could have been carpe diem-ing or something. He’s left staring at the ceiling for what feels only a few minutes but it’s actually more than an hour. After a while, his stomach starts growling and Yuri considers sleeping in order to avoid going out.

When it’s clear he’s not going to be able to fall asleep again, he decides to get out of his room, he can’t keep skipping meals if he expects to grow at least one inch more.

“Morning.” His voice comes out hoarse.

“It’s almost noon,” Grandpa answers while reading the newspaper on the couch.

“Almost,” Yuri grins.

The random channel the TV’s on is serving as background noise. In the kitchen, Yuri grabs a plate and serves himself what’s left of the scrambled eggs that have gone cold a long time ago but he can’t be bothered to reheat them. He sits cross-legged on the sofa in their small living room. Grandpa lowers his newspaper and judgmentally eyes Yuri’s plate of cold food with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Yuri asks. Were anyone else the receiver of the question it would have sounded sharper but it’s his _dedushka_ and if anything, Yuri goes softer when he’s around him.

“Nothing,” he responds but then adds, “You’re eating it cold.”

Yuri shrugs.

He’s never been one to share everything that is going on with his life with his grandpa, Yuri tells him some stuff but not everything. He would mention things like having another Yuuri at ballet but he wouldn’t mention the new guy that has caught Yuri’s attention. Grandpa sometimes asks questions to which Yuri has no answers.

He doesn’t know what compels him to do so but he practically blurts out, “Can I get a job?”

Grandpa lowers the newspaper completely and lets it rest on his lap. After a moment of looking at Yuri, he speaks. “Can you get a job?” He mirrors the question as if to check he heard right.

“Yeah, can I?” Yuri wishes the conversation could stop right here. He pretends to watch the TV to make the whole thing casual even though he’s not interested in Gordon Ramsay yelling at every living thing in his kitchen, and the air in the room has gone thick with tension.

“What about ballet?”

Yuri looks at him and talks, mouth filled with food. “Well, it would be a part time job, obviously.”

Grandpa frowns. “Do you need any money?”

“What? No! I just thought since I have nothing else to do besides school and ballet…”

“You don’t need to work, Yuri, you’re studying,” Nikolai sighs.

“No, I know that. It’s just that I have so much free time and I thought, you know, why not make myself useful?” That makes Grandpa’s frown deepen and shit, he fucked up, now he might get one of his speeches, those that involve Grandpa sitting down with him on Yuri’s bed after the situation has cooled down and having a weird heart to heart.

“You don’t have that much free time, Yuri,” he reminds him and then asks again, “Is there anything you need money for?”

Nikolai _always_ calls him Yurotchka, never Yuri, unless he’s mad or worried and right now he would rather have angry Grandpa than worried Grandpa. The nickname is not something he notices until moments like these happen.

“No!” He can’t help the frustrated sound he makes. “No,” he says calmer. “I don’t need money, grandpa, I just–it was just an idea, okay?”

Grandpa gives him a look that tells him he doesn’t believe Yuri’s bullshit but he doesn’t ask or says anything else and takes his newspaper again, the tension in his shoulders visible.

Yuri finishes eating his food in silence and when he’s done, he goes to the kitchen to wash the dish he used. The question was spontaneous but the idea of getting a job has been on the back of Yuri’s mind for a while. He doesn’t need money for something in particular, besides for that damn bike he needs to fix. He thinks that if he gets some sort of income, it would be easier for Grandpa to handle the bills. They have an established budget and Yuri has never lacked anything (materialistically speaking), but he can’t help but feel like some sort of liability. Nikolai is retired and Yuri has been in his care for too long, he wants to give something– _anything_ back. He knows no one forced his grandparents to take care of him and he knows it wasn’t out of guilt or some moral shit, Yuri _knows_ , but the matter is heavy on his mind and he can’t let it go.

“Are you going to Mila’s today?” he asks from the living room.

Yuri sighs quietly. “Maybe, I don’t know.”

Nobody says anything else.

 

▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎

 

After their not quite argument, Yuri silently goes back to his room and Grandpa pointedly doesn’t look his way.

He turns on his computer and after a while of procrastinating on the internet he finds nothing else to occupy himself with, so he does what he should have been doing in the first place: his homework. Who even does homework on Saturdays? Definitely not Yuri, but there’s a first time for everything.

He just has to fill a few blank spaces with the right grammar for French and an investigation for World History he can’t consult Wikipedia for or use the good old copy-paste, Mr. Feltsman basically knows by heart most of the Wikipedia articles about history the class is covering, so he has to actually redact.

Yuri is lying on his stomach, his head propped on his head and his left elbow is starting to hurt when his phone vibrates.

_Hey, wanna watch bad movies?_ Mila’s text reads.

Before high school and Sara, it used to be their weekend routine. Wether Yuri likes to admit it out loud or to himself, he is close to Mila, more than they seem when they’re in school, surrounded by Mila’s millions of friends and Yuri’s few ones. They knew each other since Yuri moved here and she had been his only friend before he met Guang Hong, Leo, and Seung-gil.

They used to bicker about what movies to watch but Mila’s taste has gotten better with time and he no longer has to bear cheesy romantic comedies that are, essentially, all the same, or weird French films Yuri doesn’t get. It's funny how they’re even allowed to have the door closed and nor Grandpa nor Mila’s mom have ever questioned the nature of their relationship.

_Yeah. Will be there after lunch_ , he types back.

It has been an unspoken agreement between Grandpa and Yuri since _Babushka_ died: they never let the other eat alone no matter how pissed, disappointed or sad they may be. Even if it’s in silence, they eat together.

Nikolai should be calling Yuri for lunch soon, he insists on cooking all the meals they eat, unless it’s take out or something like that, because _‘I am a retired old man, Yurotchka. I really have nothing else to do’_. Yuri helps when he can or when Grandpa lets him.

As expected, they eat in almost complete silence were not for Potya’s soft meows. After they’re done, Yuri announces he’s going to Mila’s while he clears the table and washes the dishes. He stopped asking for permission to go to her house years ago.

Grandpa just says, “Don’t be too late.”

It’s less than a two-minute walk to Mila’s house. She literally lives four houses from Yuri’s. He’s been here too many times to count. Before the divorce, when the house smelled of cigarette smoke and her mom had just picked the habit, he remembers how the air was thick with tension and surely, there was going to be a fight soon, and when the yelling started, nobody protested as Yuri silently turned up the volume of a movie or a song to drown their voices. Sometimes he arrived after a fight and Mr. Babichev was the one to open the door with a tight smile and red-rimmed eyes. After the divorce, when her dad’s things were in boxes and he was less at home, later, when Mila’s mom would open the door looking a bit drained but better, the tobacco smell no longer clinging to her clothes or lingering in the air, her now ex-husband no longer in the house. Yuri usually tried to convince Mila, the fucking masochist, to leave, she didn’t have to listen, but she decided to stay and used to put up what she thought was a happy face, like it didn’t affect her.

Back in the day, Yuri saw the strain in Mila’s face and for once he was glad he doesn’t remember much of his parents if it was going to be like this.

He’s no longer bashful when Mila’s mom opens the door and asks him how he’s doing, and if he has eaten, her smile back into place, her eyes just as bright as Mila’s.

“She’s in her room,” she tells him.

Yuri nods, he knows this house almost as much as his own. He’s sure it’s the same for her.

When he opens the door, he’s greeted with a ball of socks to the face. Yuri doesn’t have time to protest or yell when she says:

“You left that the other day, Mom washed them for you.”

Yuri crouches to pick the little ball of socks and shoves them into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Was that necessary, hag?” he growls. Yuri is frowning and is annoyed but when is he not?

“Yup.” She shakes the phone in her hand. “Got it on video.” She’s lying on her stomach, remote in hand. She’s still in her pajamas and it suddenly hits him how strange it is that he knows what Mila’s pajamas look like. “We’re watching _Badman v Superman_ first, you okay with that?”

“I thought you said bad movies,” he says as he kicks off his shoes and lies on the bed.

Mila looks at him. “You’ll see.”

“Wait, before we start, do you have any junk food?”

“Glad you asked,” she says mischievously, and goes to the kitchen.

They’re twenty minutes into the movie and eating gummy worms and popcorn he warned her not to put ketchup on when Mila makes a frustrated sound and says, “Aren’t you going to ask?”

Yuri’s hand stops midway to his mouth and drops the popcorn back in the bowl. “Huh?” He has no idea what she’s talking about.

“Don’t play dumb, Yuri.” She rolls her eyes. “Hot new guy we just hung out with?”

_Oh_.

For the record, Yuri was not playing dumb, but he guesses she doesn’t mean Jean-Jacques Leroy because _yikes_ , and he’s certain Mila doesn’t have that bad of a taste, just look at Sara. He doesn’t like where this is going and if there’s something he excels at is avoiding awkward conversation by any means necessary, so he chooses to play dumb for real this time.

He raises an eyebrow. “What? _We?_ ”

“I noticed you ogling him.” She raises both her eyebrows suggestively.

“Who?”

“I’m going to punch you in the face, Plisetsky.” She sits up and turns to look at Yuri. “Otabek, I’m talking about Otabek.”

“Eh… what about him?” Yuri is pretending he’s watching the movie and throwing handfuls of popcorn into his mouth.

Mila groans. “Forget it.” It’s quiet for a while and Yuri finally relaxes, thinking Mila gave up but then she says, “He’s in my Chemistry class, he’s sixteen but his birthday is at the end of the month. He’s from Kazakhstan but he only lived there until he was like, five. It was actually astonishingly weird how much JJ liked him even though he didn’t answer his questions that much and Yuri, we _have_ to adopt him before JJ makes him join his retinue of followers and turns him into some kind of fuck–”

“Mila!” Yuri interrupts.

She takes a breath. “What?”

“I don’t _care_.”

Mila frowns and opens her mouth to say something else but decides against it. Instead, she warns, “I’ll leave it for today, Plisetsky, but you and I know you like him.”

“How can you like a person you haven’t even spoken to?” he cries.

The movie has been forgotten, they’re currently giving zero fucks about Batman’s good intentions or Superman’s mom. It’s not bad, it’s just a bit boring, Yuri would rather rewatch _Sharknado_.

“Okay, maybe ‘like’ isn’t the word, let’s go with ‘attracted’.” She sighs and pauses the movie. “I’m going to ask this just once, Yuri. Are you _attracted_ to Otabek?”

They way she puts emphasis on the word ‘attracted’ makes Yuri scrunch up his face in distaste. He’s not _attracted_ to Otabek and granted, dude _might_ be good looking but what’s that to him?

“No, Mila,” he amuses her with fake earnest sincerity. “I’m not attracted to him.”

Mila frowns. “Alright, I believe you,” she says in a tone that shows she absolutely doesn’t believe him, but doesn’t keep nagging about the subject and resumes watching the movie.

Yuri goes back home just before dinner.

 

▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎

 

On Tuesday, Yuri has to sacrifice precious alone time at the studio for a ‘progress meeting’ Leo was keen on having about their Biology project after school even though, as Yuri pointed a billion times already, the deadline is on late November. He has a cushion of around three hours and a half before ballet since Lilia’s first class is with the beginners, but this is time he would rather spend doing anything else than sitting in the school’s library.

They’re not even doing anything productive. Guang Hong and Leo are just chatting while Yuri is listening to music so loud the librarian is throwing him dirty looks. That is one of the reasons he hates the library, Mrs. Peterson thinks even breathing is loud and disturbing to the quiet peace of her sacred library, she takes her books seriously.

Seung-gil is the only one that is actually doing homework but it’s not even Biology related. He’s been here since 3 PM and he wants to fucking leave, but he doesn’t want to sound suspicious when he says he has homework to do because, well, he’s in a library, there’s no better place to do homework than a library, and the ‘I’m helping my grandpa’ excuse can only be used so many times throughout the week without raising suspicions (usually three times) and Yuri doesn’t want to reach the limit so early on the week.

He’s thinking about making up new excuses when he sees a pair of hands rest on their table and someone leaning forward. Looking up, Yuri sees Sara Crispino and Mila right by her side. He sighs quietly, trying not to get involved in the conversation for as long as he’s able keeping his earphones, despite knowing he will have to engage at some point because apparently nobody can leave Yuri the fuck alone.

He’s able to listen to two songs more before Mila rounds Sara and nudges Yuri, signaling for him to take his earphones off. He doesn’t but he does pause the music.

“Your music’s too loud,” she says.

“Mind your own damn business, Babicheva,” he tells her, voice impassive.

“Yuri!” Sara whispers. “Do you want to join the Halloween committee? Mila and Guang Hong joined,” she says, excited that some people are lame enough to sign up for these kinds of activities. Full offense.

He looks at Mila with a raised eyebrow that she conspicuously ignores. She can’t make crafts to save her life, and yes, how hard can Halloween decorations be? But when Yuri says she can’t make crafts, he means it. Mila isn’t good with scissors and she colors outside the lines like a kindergartener.

“No, thanks,” he answers simply. Sara deflates a little but then proceeds to sit in the chair she empties of Yuri’s backpack to talk to Guang Hong. She doesn’t notice the look Yuri throws her way.

He resumes his music and after a moment, his phone buzzes. It’s a text from Mila. _If you join, I’ll do whatever you want for the rest of the term_.

He replies. _???????????_

Yuri doesn’t deny it sounds tempting, he could get Mila to do his homework and shit like that but is it truly worth it? It’s the _Halloween committee_. Hell, he didn’t even know there was a committee for it, he guessed the decorations were made by the teachers (though now that he thinks about that is highly unlikely), or simply magically appeared. But, apparently, there’s a group of people willing to waste their time making paper bats or cotton cobwebs to decorate school for a week or so. The decorations have less lifespan than a fucking fly and it isn’t thanks to Mother Nature but to seventeen-year-old teenagers who think destroying things is edgy. The effort is simply not worth it and, unlike Mila, he has dignity.

Mila gives Sara a quick look and types back. _She’s been trying to scout people to help but she only got 5 to sign up??? They need at least 20. Yuri,_ please.

_So what?_

_Fuck, Yuri. Don’t be like that_. She pleads.

_Listen, this is the Halloween committee we’re talking about. You’re asking for decorations and dressing up as Dracula, not giving away flyers or something. It’s fucking lame, I’m not doing it._

Mila frowns, annoyed but she doesn’t pursue the matter any further. Instead, as if in retaliation, she orders out loud, “Move.”

He looks up at her and pauses the music again. “What?”

“Give me half the chair.” Yuri stares at her, brows scrunched in confusion. “Don’t be selfish, you asshole. _Move_.”

Stupefied, he does.

Sara is talking animatedly with Guang Hong and brainstorming decoration ideas when Mila half yells-half whispers, “Otabek! Otabek! Over here!” It’s still too loud for a library and she receives a ‘shh’ from Mrs. Peterson, Yuri can almost hear the saliva. She turns around to give the librarian a bright smile in apology while Otabek walks toward their table. “Hey,” she greets. “Are you looking for something?”

Otabek looks down at the piece of paper he’s holding in his hand. “Yes,” he answers. “I’m looking for Mr. Trev…” He pauses and his brows furrow. “I don’t know how to pronounce his name.”

“Oh, it’s Treviño. _Con una Ñ_ ,” says Leo proudly.

“Treviño,” he attempts to say, but it sounds more like ‘Trevinio’ instead of ‘Treviño’.

“No no no, Trevi _ño_.” And that gets the whole table trying to pronounce it, except Seung-gil and Yuri. “You all suck at this, please don’t attempt to pronounce a _Ñ_ ever again,” he says with a smile after a moment. Leo looks at Mila and Guang Hong. “How do you two pass Spanish anyway?”

Mila smirks, Guang Hong shrugs.

“Why are you looking for a teacher? Nobody goes to office hours,” Guang Hong says.

“I want to take a placement test.”

“Ooh, smart boy,” Leo teases good-naturedly like they’ve been introduced before. “What do you take?”

“French.” Otabek doesn’t seem like a talkative person, if his one-word and to-the-point responses are anything to go by.

Everyone waits for him to elaborate for a second but then Leo realizes Otabek isn’t going to say anything else and says, “Have you, uhm, taken French before?”

“Yeah, two years.”

Emery offers two language courses in its curriculum: Spanish and French. The latter is the least requested so there are fewer groups, unlike Spanish, which has like, a million. Yuri takes French. He tried Spanish back in middle school but was utter shit at it, so he switched to French for high school and it’s easier, in a way, but pronunciation is a pain in the ass. He hopes Otabek is really good at it and gets in any other level that isn’t Yuri’s because he doesn’t want to be in the same classroom as him.

“I didn’t know you could take placement tests,” Guang Hong says.

“You would have known if you had listened to what teachers had to say on orientation day,” Seung-gil tells him.

“Can you even take a placement test in the middle of the term?” Sara asks.

“Treviño’s cool, man,” Leo tells Otabek. “Don’t worry, he’ll let you.” With the way he’s speaking to him, Yuri almost expects Leo to pat Otabek on the arm hard like long time friends. Leo is cool, easy to get along with. Sometimes he gives the impression of being a stoner when he’s particularly sleepy, say, 8 AM class, his words are a bit slurred.

“Cool?” Yuri scoffs, speaking for the first time since Otabek approached their table. “He’s the reason you’re stuck taking French.”

Leo sighs. “Don’t remind me, man.”

“What’d he do?” asks Otabek.

“He just went, ‘De la Iglesia, since you already speak Spanish I hope you pick French for a change’, and he gave me the creepiest of smiles, so I picked French, ‘cause I wanted to pass.” He crosses his arms. “He doesn’t know my life, he was stereotyping me. You’d think a _paisano_ would lend a guy a hand.”

“You speak Spanish,” Yuri remarks.

“Yes! But I could not, you know,” he huffs offended and leans back on his chair comfortably. “But for real, don’t worry,” he tells the older boy. “He won’t be mean to a doe-eyed new student.” Otabek frowns at being called ‘doe-eyed’. “He has a great beard, though,” Leo adds, pensive.

“Otabek?” Mila asks.

“Yes?”

“Join the Halloween committee,” she says bossily as she slides the sign so he can see it. Yuri hadn’t bothered to look at it, the paper is a tacky shade of almost neon orange and the font is a bad, bad attempt at a spooky font.

“No, thanks. I’m not big into decorations.” _At last, someone with common sense_ , Yuri thinks. He actually sounds apologetic about it and to Yuri’s surprise, Mila doesn’t insist. He clears his throat after a second. “Will any of you tell me where can I find Treviño?” It still sounds like ‘Trevinio’.

The occupants of the table look at each other.

“Yeah,” Mila says. “We actually don’t know where you can find him.”

Otabek tries not to sigh, he doesn’t know these people. He mutters a _thanks_ and turns around to leave.

“Try the actual offices!” she yells at his back and receives another shush from the librarian. He turns around and waves before he opens the door and is gone.

Someone should have probably shown him where to go but Yuri was never going to offer.

“Leo,” Sara starts and then looks at Mila.

“Join the Halloween committee,” the redhead says as she slides the sign his way.

Guang Hong snorts. “He can’t, his grandma would kill him.”

“Why?” Mila asks.

Leo sighs. “She says it’s a devil’s thing.” Everyone looks at him and he squirms in his chair. “What? She’s Mexican.” He looks at Guang Hong for a moment before asking, “Do I have to wear a costume?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” Sara shrugs.

“Okay, gimme something to write my name.” Sara hands him a black ballpoint pen with a wide smile. He looks at her. “Are you sure I don’t have to wear a costume? Because I don’t think I’ll be able to sneak out of my house without being seen. I don’t have an issue with Halloween but my _abue_ does and I’m going to get an earful if she even sees me with like, fake plastic fangs or something. Oh God, she might even make me go to church.” He says the last part horrified.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now sign,” she says impatiently and taps the sign with her index finger twice, her nails are painted a dark blue.

Leo gives her one last look before he starts writing down his name. Yuri would have interfered had he stand the chance to make Leo change his mind, but more often than not if Guang Hong was in, Leo was in.

“You’ll get to use fake blood if you join,” Mila says like a bank advisor offering benefits to a customer that is almost convinced to open an account.

“ _Awesome_.”

Yuri hopes they’re aware their decorations won’t stand a chance if Leo gets his hands anywhere near fake blood.

 

▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎

 

The next day, Yuri is leaving early even though he doesn’t have practice on later on. He stayed up late last night and his body is no longer taking it, so he plans on going home and sleep until Grandpa calls him for dinner.

“Yuri!” Someone calls.

See? Yuri is not being an angsty teenager, people can’t really leave him alone.

Mila makes a small run to where he is headed and when she catches up she says with a smile, “Phew! Got good news for you.”

Yuri raises his eyebrows, incredulous.

Ceremoniously, she puts her right hand over her heart and announces, “Seung-gil is now a proud member of the Halloween committee!”

His jaw drops. “What?!”

“Sara convinced him, and since Leo and Guang Hong joined, he signed up too.”

“That’s a fucking lie. You’re _lying_. Seung-gil would never join something so stupid like the Halloween committee.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid! It’s literally just making decorations.” Her tone offended. “And yes, Plisetsky,” she says, now smugly. “He joined.”

“Impossible, baba. Seung-gil would never dress up as, I don’t know, fucking Frankenstein, less for the _Halloween committee._ ”

She rummages through her backpack and takes out a sheet of orange paper, the sign. Oh God, _evidence_.

Sadly but undeniably, Seung-gil’s name is written there, right underneath someone else’s. “This can’t be true,” he whispers.

“You best believe it,” she says cheerily. “Now, will you join?”

He thrusts the paper back into her hands. “Never.” And turns around to leave.

Mila, as expected, follows him. “Come _on!_ It’s literally just decorations. All you have to do is stay a few hours more after class and like, paint and cut stuff. There is going to be no evidence you were on the committee if you don’t want to, I promise.”

“No.”

“Yuri,” she whines.

“I said no! Making me join is not going to make your fucking crush like you back!” Yuri knows what he said was wrong the moment he opened up his mouth and turning around to look back at Mila only confirms it.

Her mouth is open and he’s looking at Yuri like she has never seen him before.

“Mila–” he starts.

“Go fuck yourself,” she spits with as much venom as she can muster and leaves.

Yuri doesn’t follow. Firstly, because he’s an emotionally constipated asshole and he’s not good at apologizing, even when he knows he is at fault. Secondly, because Mila is hurt and pissed, she might hurl Yuri into a garbage can or something.

He’s left standing there, watching Mila enter back into the school. After a few minutes pass, he leaves.

 

▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎

 

The following morning, Yuri does the unspeakable.

He doesn’t know how to apologize to Mila. A call would go straight to voicemail and a text is just dickish and not right. What Yuri said was plain hurtful, he could have said anything but that, he feels like a piece of shit. He’s a hundred percent sure Mila would _never_ say anything like that to him, no matter how pissed.

It’s a few minutes until lunch ends and Yuri has sneaked out with a lame excuse from their lunch table in the crowded, noisy cafeteria. He doesn’t bother to make his excuse sound convincible, there are bathrooms in the cafeteria, he didn’t have to get out of it and walk almost to the other side of school to go, but none of the boys mentioned it.

There are things Yuri purposely ignores in life, like the lack of communication back at home, laundry, and the school’s bulletin board. It is almost the size of the wall and it is filled with colorful paper. However, Yuri notices the horrible orange sign almost instantly, its awful color draws the eye. The black pen in the pocket of his hoodie feels heavy and yes, he knows he’s exaggerating, Mila said it was just decorations but he can’t help but feel stupid as fuck. There are only two names Yuri doesn’t recognize written on it, which proves his point: the Halloween committee _is_ lame, but he’ll choose paper bats and dressing as Dracula a thousand times over losing his closest friend.

He doesn’t bother to make his handwriting look neat–an impossible task–and he hopes whoever checks this can decipher his phone number, his eights look like amorphous threes. Yuri takes a step back and eyes his messy scrawl letting a sigh escape his lips.

The bell rings and the hallway starts to fill with students. He gives the sign one last look before he goes to his next class.

 

▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎

 

When practice is finished on Thursday, Yuri is waiting ( _again_ ) for Viktor to stop flirting with Katsuki. The Japanese boy doesn’t seem to notice any of his attempts to get closer to him. In fact, Yuri has never in his life witnessed so much obliviousness in a person, believe him, ever heard of Sara Crispino?

Last Thursday, Viktor was asking Katsuki if he was a good cook, to which he answered that yes, he fended for himself but that it wasn’t good in comparison to his dad’s cooking. Viktor had assured him that it probably was and tried to convince him to _share_. It was all said very suggestively, mind you, but apparently Katsuki didn’t catch the hint.

Earlier in the afternoon, before practice started, Viktor shoved his phone to Yuri’s face with a whine. It was a recipe for a dish named _katsudon_. Yuri could only cackle and ask in between breathes, “What is _that_? I guess he didn’t get your hint?”

Viktor sat cross-legged next to him. “Yurio,” he whined again. “Don’t laugh. He’s clueless, I don’t know what else to do.”

“Just ask him,” Yuri said obviously. “You’ve never had trouble with that before,” he reminds him.

“I don’t want to scare him off. I’ve barely managed to make him text me three-sentenced messages,” Viktor complained.

Yuri snorted. “Gotta figure that on your own, Nikiforov,” he told him and went back to stretching.

Yuri doesn’t know what’s up with everyone (it’s just Mila and Viktor, really) telling him about their love life. He’s just as confused as the rest of them, and yes, he doesn’t do anything else besides going to school and ballet, but he’s barely handling his own shit as it is, the problem is that he doesn’t know exactly what is wrong.

He’s currently sitting on the gray couch in the waiting room, listening to the rest of the class chat in the changing room and playing with his phone when Lilia calls his name.

“Yuri?”

He gets up and sticks his head on her office. “Yes?” Yuri’s not one for being polite but this is Lilia Baranosvkaya and he’s gotten scolded for not being ‘nice’ enough times by her already, so he behaves, the woman can be quite terrifying.

Lilia motions for him to get in with her hand, and when Yuri is in front of her desk she says, “I wanted to ask if you would like to come on Wednesdays.”

The offer makes his mind short-circuit for a second before he remembers how to speak. “What?”

Viktor, Sabina, and Alma have been practicing extra hours because auditions are coming up at the beginning of the next year. It seems like everyone wants to get serious about ballet and unlike Yuri, they had permission to go to a school. It’s not that Grandpa wouldn’t let him, it’s just that Yuri has never spoken with him about taking ballet as a career. He knows he’s good–outstanding, even, but Yuri secretly thinks that, for Nikolai, it’s solely a hobby and nothing else, that Yuri might get over it and seek a ‘real’ career. Yuri could have easily lied, as he seems to do nowadays at home and at school, but when Lilia asked, he couldn’t bring himself to say that his grandpa allowed Yuri to get involved seriously and so, he told the truth for a change. If Yuri weren’t so damn hesitant about this, he could have enrolled in a school a while ago.

Lilia looks up from the folder she’s holding and frowns. “They’re practicing for auditions.” And it’s almost a question, like Yuri could have possibly forgotten.

“No, I know that but… you want me to come?”

“Yes,” she responds simply.

“But they have been practicing for months.”

“I know.”

“Isn’t it too late for me to join the class?”

She closes the folder and leans forward on her desk. “Well, you’re not auditioning yourself. I thought you might want to see what it was like, that you might want to learn as much as you can.” She pauses. “You’re going to be the only advanced student I have left after everyone else leaves, you know.”

Yuri didn’t know that. He knows Viktor has to leave, he’s almost nineteen and he can’t wait any longer to audition. He’s a case of now or never. He let time pass and his options, despite being a genius and all that crap, have narrowed, he’s told him he has his mind fixed on Juilliard and Yuri knows he can get in, he’s _Viktor_ , if he weren’t so goddamn sensible about ballet he would already be one of the best dancers of his generation. But the rest of them? Alma, Sabina, and Katsuki? Yuri didn’t know they’re leaving too.

“What about Yu–Katsuki?”

“SAB or Juilliard. If he can handle his nerves,” she states.

Yuri is surprised Katsuki intends to audition for the SAB, seeing as it’s Viktor he’s closest to. There’s one unspoken rule in Lilia’s advanced class: no one mentions or talks about the School of American Ballet in her studio. It’s a delicate topic, after Viktor decided to throw all his hard work and the permission from his mother he fought so much for down the drain, but it’s one of the most prestigious finishing schools in the United States and fuck, if Katsuki gets in, he will automatically earn Yuri’s respect.

“I thought he was younger.”

“He turns eighteen on November and he just decided to pursue a career as a dancer. Indecisive, as only he can be, but also determined when he wishes to be.”

“What about Sabina? And Alma? She’s not eighteen yet.”

Lilia sighs. “Sabina wants to go to San Francisco and Alma is dropping out, ‘AP courses and stuff’ as she says. She decided she wants to take a degree on Robotics Technology.”

“What? _Robotics Technology?_ ” he asks astounded. 

A corner of her mouth barely lifts in amusement, as if saying, _I know_.

“Why does she keep coming then?”

“She already begun, might as well finish.” After a second she asks, “Well, have you made up your mind?”

Yuri was never going to say no. He’s even surprised Lilia asked, were the situation another she would simply order Yuri to come on Wednesdays, late or not, and she knows that if there is something Yuri wants more than anything else in the world is to keep doing this for as long as he can or his body will allow.

“Yes!”

“Alright, then. Wednesdays from five thirty to eight.”

He nods trying to suppress a smile and says goodbye. He can’t help the grin that immediately takes over his face the moment he’s out of her office.

Lilia asks the class every year if anyone has considered taking ballet as a career, Viktor was the first to say he had, but never went through the process. Yuri doesn’t know his reasons, he never shared them with the class. One day, he didn’t show up for a week. Lilia kept pretending his best student wasn’t missing and no one dared to ask what was happening. He came back, obviously, and despite the tension in the air, everything resumed as if nothing had happened.

Yuri never asked Viktor why when he found out he wasn’t applying last year. He was near combusting with anger but one look at Viktor’s face and he kept his mouth shut. He supposes his reasons were his own.

In a way, he resents Viktor for it. His mother’s support was obtained with difficulty. She knew her son was excellent at what he did, but Viktor could be reckless and being an only child–a spoiled one–made him prone to change his mind without considering the consequences. So, as expected, she didn’t trust Viktor to enroll in a rather expensive school to later decide he didn’t want to do it, despite the fact he’s been doing ballet for as long as he can remember. _‘There’s a difference between what one works at and what one is good at, Vitya. A hobby can lose its charm once it becomes a job’_ , Viktor used to quote her. But Yuri could tell he really had his mind set that time, he doesn’t know what could possibly made Viktor give up like that.

Yuri finds Viktor waiting for him on the couch, his ponytail looks messy and slightly wavy after being in a bun for class.

“Ready?” he asks as he stands up.

Yuri follows.

He’s trying to ignore whatever Viktor is saying (it’s probably about Katsuki) and looking out the window of the car when they pass an establishment with Halloween decorations and Yuri’s mind snaps.

The fucking Halloween committee, he signed up for it.

It ends at five but there’s no way in hell Yuri’s going to make it on time for practice in half an hour on foot, and his damn bike is still broken. Damn all the impulsive purchases he’s made that have left him with zero money to fix it.

Yuri throws his head against the headrest and groans.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, just tired of listening you speak,” he lies.

“Wow, _rude_.”

Viktor stops rambling but keeps talking, it’s like he gets more energy the more he says. Annoying.

When they get to Yuri’s home, he absentmindedly thanks a dumbfounded Viktor as he gets out of the car. He never says thanks, Yuri has other ways of showing gratitude.

He has dinner with Grandpa and answers when talked to inattentively. If Nikolai notices, he doesn’t point it out and lets Yuri go to his room without asking for an explanation for his attitude.

In the shower, Yuri tries to figure out a way to make his new schedule work, it’s only going to be like this for a couple of weeks after all, but every time he comes up with a solution, his mind turns it down.

He can’t back out of the committee if he wants to make it up to Mila. For all he knows, not even joining it will make her forgive him after what he said, but it’s already been established that Yuri’s bad at feelings and he doesn’t know how to apologize any other way. He has to get to the studio at least five minutes before practice starts if he doesn’t want to get a strained muscle for not warming up, skipping is definitely not an option, Yuri has never missed a class in his life.

Asking Viktor to pick him up after school is not an alternative when he already drives Yuri to school more often than not in the mornings, and when he drops him at home after ballet. He already owes him too many favors, he’s not going to ask anything else of him. Yuri could ask Grandpa to drive him in the mornings instead, and ask Viktor to pick him up after school instead of before–but no, Viktor is not his chauffeur and he doesn’t want to ask Grandpa to drive him places when Yuri knows his back is bad. He guesses he could excuse himself half an hour earlier from the committee but he wonders how many suspicions that will raise and it may make Mila think he’s not taking it seriously or something.

He’s going to rip his hair out if he doesn’t find a solution. He has until Monday to figure out how he's going to make it work.

_It’s okay, I have the weekend to sort it out_ , he tells himself as he tries to focus on the homework he’s attempting to finish.

Yuri thinks again about the conversation in Lilia’s office. He’s going to be the last student after this year ends. It makes him sound mythical: _‘the last student’_. He supposes it will be a good thing to have all her attention but it will be ten times more demanding. And what could they possibly be doing on Wednesdays that they don’t do on regular class?

It was strange, that Lilia asked him to go on Wednesdays when auditions are just around the corner, it is late for him to join but he wasn’t going to question it, Lilia knows Yuri is capable of catching up but was that why she asked? Was it because Yuri was staying while the others were leaving? Did she truly want to show him what preparing for an audition was like? Or maybe…

Was that Lilia’s way to convince Yuri to enroll in a school?

Yuri drops the pencil he’s holding with a groan. Did Lilia try to coerce Yuri to audition next year? Or was it because she wanted him to stay? It must be the first, Lilia surely knows Yuri is never leaving unless he enrolls in a prestigious ballet school (he aims high, you see), which he plans to, he just needs to talk about it with Grandpa first, but that’s a concern to keep Yuri sleepless for another night. Ballet is the only thing he looks up for in his days, he’s not fucking leaving it, Lilia must know.

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes in frustration. Sleep has become wishful thinking for the rest of the night.

 

▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎

 

He didn’t hear from Mila at school today and he didn’t see her. Yuri tried to text her but chickened out before he could press the send button. He tells himself he’s giving her time to cool down, but he honestly doesn’t believe Mila is mad like Yuri would be mad, he supposes she’s hurt, and with good reason. Has Yuri mentioned he was an asshole? Yes? Well, one more time can’t hurt.

Yuri has decided to ask Lilia the reason why she told him to come on Wednesdays. He’s aware it could be a bad idea, like petting a hungry tiger, but he’s going to do it anyway.

Whatever Lilia’s reasons were, it doesn’t affect Yuri in any way. Whether she wanted him there because he was going to be the last student in the advanced class or because she wants him to enroll as soon as possible in a school, Yuri gets something good out of it. But it’s been nagging him, he couldn’t sleep last night, his mind wouldn’t stop thinking about it and today at school, he added Mila to his thoughts.

On Friday, after class is finished, Lilia leaves. She almost never stays to talk, that’s what her office is for, but everyone except Viktor is kind of terrified of going there, even if no one has expressed it out loud. In an attempt to be inviting, the door is always open, unless someone is already there.

He knocks on the door frame and waits for Lilia to tell him to come in.

“Is there something you need?” She’s wearing black-rimmed glasses with a thin golden chain. The frames make her nose look sharper and the color of her eyes don’t show up as much behind the lenses. She’s writing down something she’s reading from her computer on a yellow post-it. The sound of the pencil scratching against the paper sounds loud to Yuri’s ear.

He doesn’t waste time. “Why did you tell me to come on Wednesdays?”

Her hand stops for a second and looks at him. “I already told you why.” She resumes writing.

“No, why did you _really_ tell me to come on Wednesdays?” His question is met with silence. Lilia puts the pencil down and crosses her hands on her desk. “Is it because everyone’s leaving or because you want me to get into a school already?”

“Yuri–,” she starts but he interrupts her.

“Was it?”

“I already told you my reasons,” she says. “But would it be such a bad thing to get into a school? You have talent, you know that.”

“Grandpa wouldn’t allow it.”

Lilia picks up the pencil again. “Well, have you asked?” she says as she looks at the computer and keeps writing, it infuriates Yuri.

“It’s _expensive_.”

“There are scholarships and as I said already, you have what it takes. It wouldn’t be a problem for you to get one. Besides, whatever you do afterward, whether you decide to pursue this or something else, you’ll end up in debt.” She looks at him and says caustically, “The cost of an education.”

Yuri is quiet, staring at her.

“I’m thinking of closing the studio,” Lilia announces quietly. She is still looking at her computer, the reflection of it taints the clear lenses a blue shade that is almost white. She doesn’t look at him.

Yuri feels his stomach drop. “ _What the fuck?_ ”

The curse gets Lilia to finally look at him. “ _Language_ ,” she warns. She takes her glasses off and lets them hang around her neck. “Everyone but you is leaving, and I have only eight students left in the novice class.”

“ _I’m_ not leaving.” Is that not enough?

He hates the way her eyes turn sad, like she feels sorry for him, it makes him feel like a child. “I know. I would happily train you only, but there are bills to pay, Yuri.”

“Are you retiring?” he asks, angry.

“God, no,” she lets out a short, quiet laugh. “I will not retire anytime soon but this is a _business_ , Yuri.” He hates the way she’s saying his name, it sounds pitiful, as if she’s trying to explain a kid Santa Claus doesn’t exist. Usually, it’s a reprimanding _‘Yuri Plisetsky’_ , accompanied by a judgmental look. “It won’t be remunerating after they leave.”

He is not leaving, he doesn’t understand.

“Well, when are you closing? January?” His voice sounds strange to his own ears.

“No, the end of the school year.”

“What am I supposed to do after that?” he asks.

“There are other schools with good teachers in the city. I could redirect you to whichever you choose,” she offers.

“No, there _aren’t_. You well damn know those schools are more like daycares than anything else.” Lilia doesn’t stop him when he curses. “Kids go there for seasonal festivals so they get to wear something stupid like a fucking tutu, not because they really want to do this,” he fumes.

She doesn’t reproach him for the insults. “Well, you could audition.”

“I told you it’s expensive.”

“Yuri, calm down.”

He’s perfectly calm, he’s not yelling and his hands have yet to form fists. He’s calm.

He doesn’t say anything else.

“Think about it, talk with Nikolai,” she says. “You still have until the end of the school year. Whatever you choose to do, let me know, I’ll do what I can to help you.” The emotion in her eyes disappears after that. She composes herself, clearing her throat and putting her glasses back. “Now, get out of my office.” Her voice volume is back to normal, Yuri hadn’t noticed how low she was speaking. “Viktor must be waiting for you.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s too busy fawning over Katsuki to remember,” he tells her but leaves.

 

▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎ ▫︎

 

The ride home is unexpectedly quiet, at least for Viktor. Yuri supposes he can tell something isn’t right, but he knows better than pushing Yuri to say something he is not ready to say out loud yet.

The trees around are slowly losing their leaves and the city lights paint the road a hundred different colors. Yuri can almost _see_ the cold.

He’s not sure if Viktor knows about Lilia’s plans to close the studio. If he knew he would tell him, right? He’s never seen them interact outside the studio but Viktor is the eldest and he might get some insight Yuri doesn’t by virtue of being sixteen. He doesn’t ask, unsure if he wants to find out he knew all along and didn’t tell Yuri, he’s already in bad terms with Mila, he doesn’t want to mess up his– _acquaintance_ (Yuri refuses to use the word friendship) with Viktor for a lie. Ignorance is bliss and all that shit.

Viktor drums his fingers on the steering wheel, the silence making him uneasy. Yuri is looking out the window and his music isn’t loud enough to make up for the lack of conversation. It’s usually bickering, but sometimes they talk like normal human beings.

When they’re halfway to Yuri’s house, Viktor gives up and finally speaks, “I think my mom is going to fire me.”

Yuri snorts despite himself. “Is she? Well, you had it coming.”

“ _Hey_ ,” he complains. “I make perfectly good coffee.”

“Yeah, but you like, leave your shifts whenever you want. You’re not even supposed to have the afternoon shift because we have practice.”

“The boss is my mom, I can leave whenever I want,” he says.

“Work is work, Nikiforov,” Yuri reminds him. “Hey, when she fires you, can I get your job?”

“You vulture,” he hisses. “She’s not really going to fire me, you’ll see, she’s just going to make me work in the morning.” The smug bastard.

“You just wait,” Yuri banters. “Anyway, can I?”

“Get a job?”

Yuri doesn’t have permission yet, but he’ll find a way to make Grandpa approve. He’ll make something up, about the importance of learning responsibilities or something like that.

“Yes.”

“Don’t you have school? And ballet?” Viktor observes.

“It can be a part-time job?” Viktor looks at him. “Eyes on the fucking road!”

“It was just a second! And good God, that mouth of yours.” He runs a hand through his long hair. “Why do you want a job?”

He can see his house now, he won’t have to explain anything so Yuri shrugs and doesn’t respond.

Viktor frowns. “I’ll see what I can do,” he says despite not having received an answer. “But Nikolai has to explicitly give you permission.”

“Yes, yes,” he assures him impatiently as he gets out of the car. “He will, don’t worry. See you.”

He’s halfway down the driveway when he turns around to ask for another favor. Viktor always waits for him to get in the house before he leaves.

“Hey!” he calls. Viktor lowers the car window and looks at him expectantly. “Can you like, make me another favor?”

“Another favor?” he asks confused.

“Yes,” Yuri says, but doesn’t elaborate. “I signed for the–something at school, it was uhm, obligatory, and I get out of school at five now, so like, I was wondering if you could pick me up after school instead of before? It’s only going to be until the end of the month.” His right hand is playing with the hem of his hoodie, but it’s out of Viktor’s line of vision.

“You signed up for a school activity?” Viktor’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“It was obligatory,” Yuri remarks.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs. “Yeah, sure, I’ll pick you up at five. Before, if you can, so we’re not late, Lilia would kill us. I’ll text you!”

“Thanks,” he mutters, looking down.

“It’s nothing. You sure you don’t want me to pick you up in the morning?”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

Viktor looks at him thoughtfully for a second, but then his usual smile is back into place. “Okay. Now get in so I can leave.”

Yuri nods and walks away.

The house is significantly warmer than the outside, and Yuri can smell the food from the living room. Granted, it is a small house.

Grandpa greets him cheerily. _‘Ah, Yurotchka, there you are!’_. The tension their last argument left has been gone since Monday.

As always, Nikolai asks how his day went and Yuri returns the question. He scolds Yuri about feeding Potya when they’re eating at the table, saying it has made him spoiled and now the cat has the habit of climbing the kitchen counter to steal food. _‘It’s not hygienic’_ , he says.

“Yurotchka?” he asks tentatively after a while before they finish eating.

“Mm?”

He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better about it. He sighs. “You can get a job.” A smile instantly blooms on Yuri’s face. “When winter break starts, not while you’re at school, and I have to approve it first.”

“Thank you, thank you!” He gets up and hugs Grandpa from behind, still sitting on his chair.

He pats Yuri’s forearm lovingly. “Yeah, yeah,” he says with a satisfied smile. “Now, go take a shower, you stink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things that give me life:  
> \- Yuri and Mila's friendship.  
> \- Italics.
> 
> Forgot to mention this is completely unbetaed, just proofread a hundred times. Also English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. If you're going to let me know about any mistakes try to be gentle about it because I am a Sensible One.
> 
> No offense meant to Batman v Superman.
> 
> Thank you for reading! LOL (lots of love).

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to set this in an American high school because I can only steer away from clichés so much.


End file.
